


Unlike the Other

by Overlocked



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Snarry-A-Thon18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-26 06:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14396583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Overlocked/pseuds/Overlocked
Summary: One of Harry's children is a squib. He finds it a lot more difficult to handle than he expected. Talking to Severus about it is easier than he anticipated.





	Unlike the Other

**Author's Note:**

> When I saw the prompt, this story popped into my head. While I may have interpreted it in my own way, I hope it is satisfactory!

Al was seven when Harry first suspected he was different from his other two children. Nothing in particular triggered the feeling; it was much like his acceptance of magic as a child – it just _was_.

He was by no means bothered about what it meant for the boy, as he was convinced that he would love all his children unconditionally. He went about his day as usual, but when he returned from work that evening he made the worst mistake of his life.

He mentioned it to Ginny.

Placating her didn’t help, and they ended up having a huge row about it. She denied any oddness straight out of hand and went so far as to imply that, should it prove to be true, _he_ would have wished it upon the boy. He supposed that it was one thing to _say_ you are not prejudiced towards Squibs, as long as you weren’t exposed to one, or worse, related. Ginny started watching the boy closer, eager to find a hint of magic to prove Harry wrong.

When Al turned eight it was confirmed. With both other siblings down with dragon pox, his symptoms remained decidedly Muggle and, instead of the green-tinted skin and fiery sneezes, he simply had a loss of appetite. Harry took time off work to tend to them, and discovered Ginny crying in the bathroom that evening. She adamantly refused to discuss the matter, but as the days passed, she grew colder towards the boy.

So, Harry simply loved him more.

Months passed before another discovery was made and, furious, Harry stormed to confront Ginny with a list of chores in his hand. Much like his suspicion about Al, he had the feeling that their marriage was at an end.

“He’s only eight years old!” he had shouted.

“And he’ll have to know how to do things for himself – he can’t live with us forever!”

Memories of days spent attempting to please his uncle and aunt drove him from making a calmer argument.

“And did you bother showing him how to do any of this? Did you even ask him why he didn’t clean the stain in the kitchen before you sent him to his room without supper?” He had thrown the parchment at her; it drifted anticlimactically to the floor.

She had flung her hands into the air. “You’re not listening to reason! There’s nothing hard about what I asked him to do, he’s just being difficult!”

“It’s not going to come off without either baking soda or nail polish remover! Just because it is easy _with_ magic, does not mean it is simple without!”

She had huffed and walked across the room to the door. “I can’t talk to you when you get like this.” The door, however, would not open. “Harry James Potter, open this door!”

Her irritation and inability to admit that she was the one in the wrong had made him clench his hands in frustration, but he still had questions. He had tried to take a calming breath. “Why is Al’s list almost twice as long as James’?”

“I told you, because he has to learn how to do things for himself without magic. What he doesn’t finish is added to the next day, and he’s obviously not been working very hard at it. Now let me out!”

The door had clicked open and she escaped through it, not because the matter was settled, but because Harry couldn’t think of means to convince her. It wounded him that she could treat Al so, knowing what hardships Harry had suffered at the hands of his relatives. 

He wasn’t prepared to give up without at least trying to salvage their marriage, so the next few weeks saw him spending as much time as he could spare sharing chores and educating James, Al and Lily in Muggle ways. Arthur was ecstatic when he discovered this and started inviting himself over after work to participate.

When Ginny left on an away tour with the Holyhead Harpies, Harry took the plunge to have the house fitted with electricity. Together the children and himself camped in the backyard for the required two days, and he taught them the wonder of cinnamon rolls on sticks and melted marshmallows.

He refrained from commenting when he saw how Ginny’s shoulders sagged just a little when she noticed the electrical fittings upon her return.

\---

Hermione finally confided in him about how distraught Ginny was becoming over having a Squib for a son. The more she tried to be considerate of Al by not using magic near him, the more she noticed how little she could do without it. It scared and frustrated her, and all her overtures to set him up independently appeared to land on the wrong side of her husband.

They were drifting apart, and she knew it. Worse still, part of her looked forward to being free of a family. 

Ginny and Ron had always been close, but after she cried herself to sleep in his arms following _that_ revelation, even he had turned stricken eyes on his wife. Hermione’s open-cards policy had served their family well, so she had proposed to be the one to break the news to Harry. Having suspected such an outcome, Harry took the news well and arranged for private meetings with Arthur and Molly to inform him of his decision.

“She may be my daughter, but you are my son. You will always be family to me,” Arthur had told him before hugging him tight. Molly had sat tight-lipped through the discussion before breaking out in tears and offering to look after the children.

Their support meant the world to him.

Two weeks later he became a full-time single father amidst a press storm over the news. Al, being a naturally clever boy, accurately deduced the reason for his parents’ divorce and barricaded himself in his room. James despondently sat on the other side of Al’s door, his excitement at the freshly delivered Hogwarts letter nowhere to be found.

Harry and Lily baked biscuits to cheer them up.

\---

Rumour had it that the dour man running the apothecary could not speak. The vicious scars that could sometimes be seen peeking out of the top of his clothing attested to this fact, and Severus Snape made no attempt to refute it. Following the war, he had settled in a small town that afforded him a comfortable distance between his house and that of his closest neighbour, and he proudly ran a rather profitable business by owl-order.

The Muggles were none the wiser about his identity, and the few wizards that tracked him down were quickly disabused of any notion of utilising his fame for their own purposes. He kept in touch with Minerva and Filius, and had once even ventured out to join Kingsley for a drink.

It was thus a great surprise to find Harry bloody Potter dusting the snow from his shoulders in his shop’s entrance one winter’s morning.

He catalogued the tan skin brushed with a darker tint from the cold wind, the sure stance and the knowing eyes. He browsed the shelves with the expertise of someone who was familiar with an apothecary’s classification system, and finally found what he sought in a display case near the back.

The Squib section. Curious.

He didn’t keep abreast of the news from London, but he was aware that Potter had divorced the Weasley girl and had taken an extended leave of absence from his position as the head of the MLE on the same day – Minerva had been most distraught at the news. The _Prophet_ had not supplied any reason for the drastic change, and she had speculated for the better part of an hour. 

He quietly sat at the counter with a cup of tea and his research notes while waiting to be noticed, running possible reactions from Minerva through his head at the prospect of solving the mystery.

Once Potter established that yes, he could not access the items on display without assistance, he turned to seek out the other occupant in the room. Severus took great delight in the look of shock and surprise that came over Potter’s features. He noted that the younger man made to utter _’Professor’_ first before quickly adjusting.

“Snape.”

Such respect now that he didn’t need it. He inclined his head in acknowledgement and waited to see how Potter would intrude upon his privacy.

A quick glance at the display he had just left seemed to override any notions he had at starting an inane conversation. “May I buy a selection of potions from your stock?” he asked instead.

Wordlessly Severus left his counter and approached the indicated unit. He visibly glanced at the wording adorning the glass and raised an eyebrow at his former student. 

Potter’s face clouded. “Not many apothecaries cater to Squibs. I’ve had two referrals to come here assuring me that this place has both good quality wares as well as reliable stock.” He diverted his gaze to the contents of the display. “Knowing who runs this shop is a relief, actually.”

It wasn’t the answer he was looking for, but it provided insight nonetheless. Unwarding the case, he watched as Potter pulled vial after vial from the shelf.

The basic Wizarding flu remedy for non-magicals, nutritional potions, a mild headache draught that even Muggles could use, a variation of the bone-setter and magic-burn salve. Warning bells went off in his head as Potter finally reached for the iron supplement. 

_Your son?_

Green eyes flicked to the floating words, and hesitantly, he nodded. “I wasn’t aware that Squibs shouldn’t have the same potions we do. Apparently, a common side effect is anaemia – a condition compounded by my late discovery of that fact.”

It was a bit of a shock to realise that Potter’s children were of the age to attend Hogwarts already. Had the years gone by that fast? He struggled to think what year they had been born.

_No need to hoard. I brew to maintain a minimum stock._

Sheepish, Potter replaced a few bottles. No doubt the habit was ingrained from the poor stock levels at the more mainstream apothecaries. Potions catering to Squibs were hardly a profitable venture.

He debated for a moment if he should issue the caution against Apparition with these particular brews, but the broom left at the door answered his question. Potter was obviously familiar with the procedure.

He watched the man count out the required number of coins and hesitate at the door. “It was good to see you, Snape,” he said, and then he was gone.

\---

Visits from Potter became a monthly thing. Obvious scheming by Minerva led to a coincidental meeting, and the three of them ended up dining together one afternoon. She gushed about how similar to James, Senior Potter’s eldest was, from which Severus drew the conclusion that the younger son was the Squib.

His namesake.

He pilfered information from their conversation in abundance. There was as much hidden in what Potter said as he did not, and while the boy - man - had grown to be a calm, responsible person, he still wore his emotions on his sleeve.

He was the primary caregiver and had physical custody of all three children, the eldest of whom was attending Hogwarts at present. The other two were tutored together with a collection of underaged Weasleys, and Potter’s daughter showed an early affinity for potions.

Potter’s frustration at his failure to communicate with the Squib, Al, soon became apparent as well. The boy blamed himself for his parents’ divorce and had limited his interaction with everyone around him since. 

_Purchase a personal computer for the boy,_ he had advised. His own experience with the technology was limited to the suggestions the goblins that oversaw his account at Gringotts had offered – apparently it was the next step to expanding his business, with instant communication possible via the internet. Almost all the literature he had located on the subject suggested likewise.

Potter’s face had relaxed into a smile, and he’d even gone as far as to thank him for the idea. 

Minerva was intolerable afterwards when he escorted her to the Floo, but when she touched his arm in a grandmotherly fashion and blinked proudly at him, he scoffed at her, rolled his eyes and tossed the powder into the grate to be rid of her.

Emotional tabby. 

How he then found himself invited to the Potter household to assist with the installation process of the thrice-damned contraption was anyone’s guess. Why he had gone, was another. 

He blamed it on boredom.

Together they set it up in the boy’s room, and he cast a curious glance at the colourful cases Potter stacked next to the machine – structured forms of entertainment, by the looks of it. They rewarded themselves with a few fingers of scotch despite the early hour and adjourned to the lounge. Their conversation consisted of silence more often than not, but Severus had become aware that their one-sided discussions were more therapeutic for Potter than anything else.

The less he spoke, the more Potter divulged. It was fascinating.

He had his first good look at Albus Severus Potter when the children arrived home from their tutoring session. While the pigeon pair stood gaping at the entryway, he studied the boy’s features. He had a narrow face with high cheekbones, and those stunning green eyes that haunted his dreams still. The girl had a remarkable resemblance to Lily at that age, but the hazel eyes belied the image.

Potter was beaming as he introduced them, and they followed the two upstairs at a measured pace. Al’s exclamation at the discovery in his room tempted Severus to smile, a battle he lost as the boy hurtled himself out of the room and at his father. A quiet word from Potter and then he was enveloped in a hug as well, a sensation so startling that he dumbly stood there and belatedly raised a hand to pat the child on the back.

He would never have children himself, so the easy affection clutched at him. He was too jaded, too damaged and too disillusioned with humanity to attempt a bond of such a kind at this stage in his life.

The boy took to the technology like a fish to water, and Severus suddenly found himself a frequent visitor to the Potter household as the child showed him how to inventory his shop while at the same time predicting what he would need to order based on the potions he wanted to brew weeks ahead of time. His introduction to the Internet was just as astounding, and soon he was inviting the Potters over to his own humble abode to set up the network between his flat and his shop. Al was in his element, and Harry grudgingly admitted to Severus that he struggled to keep up. Together they devised a study-plan and three months down the line Severus discovered to his horror that he was seeing Harry more often than he saw Minerva.

\---

“When will you bring that nice young man to the pub?” Mrs Pickering was seemingly browsing the Muggle merchandise, but her comment was too timeously made to be coincidental and he fought the urge to cough through his mouthful of tea. “Ian said he is prepared to make it a meal on the house if you will introduce him to us.”

Curse these nosy old townsfolk. He glared at her in response.

“Come now, we don’t judge. If anything, we’re happy that you seem to have found a bit of happiness.” She bustled about to the counter, her selection of natural remedies in hand. Mrs Pickering was his biggest advocate and, by word of mouth alone, had raked in Muggle clients from as far as Thatchings.

Then her words registered.

 _We are not in a relationship,_ he wrote angrily on the back of a datasheet.

“Bring him around anyway.” She batted her eyes at him.

It was a fruitless endeavour to fight against an idea that, once planted in one’s mind, begged to be considered. While he wouldn’t consider himself naturally inclined to the persuasion, he did have the occasional desire for intimacy, and Harry was more than palatable. Their next meeting he spent analysing everything, from the man’s body language to the intonation of his voice, and he realised that what he saw was opportunity. Harry’s demeanour was open and warm, and he knew without a doubt that if he played his cards right, he could end up in Harry’s bed.

Subtle prompting and a skilfully disclosed double entendre – that had the other man pretend nothing was astray while blushing up to his ears – assured him that Harry was open to the idea, but perhaps not convinced of the intention, considering the source. He had to plan his strategy well. There were also the children to consider, one of whom he hadn’t even met yet.

Harry soon purchased another computer that he set up for his own use in the study, and together they spent many an hour testing the script Al had written for his business. It boiled down to a level of logic that fundamentally agreed with Severus, and he spent the time more content than he could recall being for some time.

Then the school year came to an end and he met James. The boy was a stockier version of his father and extremely outgoing. They lost him to the computer craze early as Al ran him through Call of Duty, Fallout 4 and StarCraft II. Even Harry’s computer was eventually commandeered so that they could play over the network, and in a fit of exasperation Harry invited him out to lunch while the boys monopolised the technology. Lily begged off to visit Rose, and an amused Hermione received her at the door after Lily hugged both men goodbye.

At the venue though, Harry procured a letter from his pocket that he quite seriously placed on the table after their orders were in.

“I need your advice,” he started. “I forwarded Al’s program to an acquaintance of Hermione’s, and they came back with this.”

The letter turned out to be an offer of purchase – for a substantial amount of money. The base of the program was apparently applicable to many fields, and the simplicity of the coding allowed for a variety of customization that neither Harry nor himself had considered.

“It wasn’t my intention to sell it, I just wanted an expert’s opinion. What should I do?”

He might not know much about software value, but he did know a thing or two about business. “Send it to another company for evaluation and inform them that you have a buyer. By their response you can gauge the honesty of this figure.”

The shocked silence had him raise his gaze in query.

“You can talk.”

Damnation. “Not at great length, and not without repercussion.”

“I’m glad.” Well, it wasn’t the reaction he had expected. “I thought it a pity that you had lost your voice.”

“Then rest assured, I am a fully functioning human male.”

The blush was back, and Severus mentally patted himself on the back.

\---

When Severus spotted the errant YouTube link in Harry’s browsing history, he knew it was time to move his plan forward. Upon exiting the study, however, he was met by the youngest green-eyed wonder, now ten.

“I know what you’re up to,” was the cryptic comment before the boy bounded down the stairs in answer to the lunch call. His sister was just as exuberant, darting around Severus’ legs before coming to a halt a few treads below him.

“If you had three wishes, what would you wish for?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Since your and my desires most likely do _not_ coincide, requesting my opinion on this matter will not assist you in completing your English homework.”

She frowned. “I don’t know what to write.”

“Wealth, happiness and a myriad of other worldly desires are at your disposal. Perhaps you can peruse a copy of ‘The Monkey’s Paw’ for more perspective on the nature of wishes.”

“It can be anything? Even to have Mum live with us again?”

Ouch. “Would that make your father happy?”

Her face fell. “No.”

“Do you think it wise to wish for it anyway, knowing that your happiness comes at the cost of others’?”

“I miss my mum.”

“Then perhaps you could wish to see her more often.”

“Okay.”

\---

Severus’ sleeve was touching his arm. The contained appendage was just out of accidental contact range, so he felt incredibly idiotic for being as excited about a _sleeve_ as he was.

Yet he refrained from moving, dreading that the contact might be broken.

He wasn’t sure if the more casual encounters with Severus were due to the man relaxing in his company, or if he were playing the dangerous game Harry had begun to hope he was. 

Harry hadn’t had a chance to experiment with sex as a teenager, and after the war his morals had demanded that he be loyal to Ginny. It made for a frustrating lack of experience as to how to respond appropriately, as the potential of misinterpretation could be dire.

It was alarming how much the possibility of dating Severus appealed to him.

After confirming that the act between men did _not_ repulse him in the least – it was mortifying how much courage he had needed to search for that video – he tried to be as receptive as possible to whatever Severus was up to. His children respected and, in Al’s case, adored the man, so he was relatively sure they wouldn’t be too bothered if Harry were to enter into a relationship with him. Enough time had also passed since his divorce that the media would hopefully not crucify him for showing an interest in another partner.

What he _did_ dread was Ron’s reaction. Hermione had already picked up on the signs and was teasing him in that manner of hers that signified approval, but Ron was still harbouring the hope that after Ginny ‘found’ herself, they would reconcile.

Ginny, who had been photographed on the arms of four different men already, and whose letters home were becoming further and further apart.

He didn’t envy the freedom she had chosen, but he knew the children missed her and for their sake he persisted with the communication.

His focus shifted to the button that suddenly grazed his knuckle, and he lowered the papers he was holding to cover his lap, mortified at his body’s response. It certainly hadn’t been like this with Ginny. He chanced a glance at Severus’ face, only to find the man smirking at him.

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

Severus’ eyes creased at the corners. “Of course.”

Harry hesitated for a second. Gryffindor courage, right? “May I kiss you?”

“I certainly hope you plan to do more than that.”

\---

“Severus! It’s good to see you again, old friend.”

Dark eyes watched as the small-statured man spelled the soot from his clothes. “Filius. Will Minerva not be joining us tonight?”

The Charms professor grinned. “Heavens no, and you should be grateful. Harry’s eldest has been showing off his collection of videos to the OWL and NEWT students, and now there is a student petition doing the rounds that demands access to electricity at the castle. She has been cursing you since she caught wind of it.”

“Me?” He gestured to the table to indicate the tea service, and Filius poured himself a cup.

“It’s videos of you brewing, lad. The students have been all agog over them; they are considered an excellent study aid. I can’t tell you how many owls we are seeing daily swopping empty power-banks for charged ones. It causes havoc in the mornings.”

“James has been allowing the other students access to my videos? I charge a reasonable subscription price for access to those!” Al, the only teenager with his own mini-software empire, had assisted him with setting up the accounts required, and he had been floored at the response his preliminary uploads had garnered. It had been a significant boost in his income since and increased monthly. 

Who knew so many witches and wizards had access to the internet?

He tapped his fingers on the table. “I shall have to have a word with Harry about his privileges.”

“Your modifications to the standard brewing instructions are also problematic. The students have been peppering Professor Mayweather about the theoretical implications of substituting ingredients, and she often finds herself unable to answer. And you know how students are – I swear they can smell weakness. Don’t get me wrong, Mayweather knows the school curriculum well enough, but she’s not you. Her ability to improvise is mediocre at best.”

“I can hardly be held accountable for this series of events,” he drawled, actually quite pleased. “You may inform Minerva that I will consider a student discount for access to my content, but I fear I can offer no advice on her electricity problem.”

Harry chose that moment to walk into the house, two shopping bags swinging in his grip. Severus beckoned him over and Harry dropped a kiss on his cheek. “Come listen to the chaos James has been causing at Hogwarts…”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment here or at [Livejournal](https://snape-potter.livejournal.com/3812096.html), [Insanejournal](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/snape_potter/1747456.html), or [Dreamwidth](https://snape-potter.dreamwidth.org/1060441.html).


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